A Friend in Need
by wbss21
Summary: At seventeen years of age, Loki Odinson is committed to a New York State Sanatorium, located centrally in East Side Brooklyn. At seventeen, Loki Odinson is declared, legally, mentally insane.
1. Chapter 1

**A Friend in Need**

**Chapter 1:**

At seventeen years of age, Loki Odinson is committed to a New York State Sanatorium, located centrally in East Side Brooklyn.

At seventeen, Loki Odinson is declared, legally, mentally insane.

/

Loki Odinson sits in the chair across from his own, and stares out the ajar window.

He is silent, one arm held protectively across his stomach, his other's elbow rested against the chairs arm, a cigarette burned near down to its filter dangling between two, long, thin fingers. Bruce worries that he is going to burn himself, and knows he's going to have to take the cigarette away soon. There are already scabs and blisters along the tips of the boy's fingers from where he has done so previously.

Wisps of smoke carry out the window on the breeze, and Loki looks ragged.

Dr. Banner watches him intently.

Loki has been here at St. Agatha's for nearly two weeks, and in that time, Bruce has yet to hear him speak a single word.

His raven black hair is chopped short, near to the scalp, though when he came in, the doctor knows it was well past his shoulders in length, knotted and scraggily and unkempt.

The boy is no more than a wisp of a thing, Bruce thinks as he watches him. They've been weighing him every day since he arrived, monitoring his BMI.

He is severely underweight, and he will not eat. Every time the nurses have attempted to force him, he has suffered extreme episodes, and sometimes, they aren't able to get him to stop screaming and thrashing until the orderlies can force him down and inject a sedative into him. They stick an IV into his arm then, and pray for the best.

The boy's clothes hang off him in sheets, and beneath the dip of his shirt's collar, Bruce can see his ribcage pressed against his pale skin prominently. His arms hang from the short sleeves like sticks, his face is gaunt with cheekbones like razor blades, and the column of his throat too clearly visible.

It hurts to look at him.

Dr. Banner's eyes cast away, down to the open file sat across his desk, reading the same lines he's read a dozen times previous.

Paranoid Schizophrenia.

That's the diagnosis given to the boy by his former doctors back in England.

Dr. Bruce Banner is the leading mind in the world in the study of paranoid schizophrenia, and because Loki's family is wealthy, they moved to the States from London and had him committed here.

Bruce has met them, briefly. A father, Odin, quite possibly the most intimidating man the doctor has ever had the pleasure of speaking to. A mother, Frigga, with a kind disposition to counter the stern cold of her husband. And an older and younger brother, Thor, a massive giant of a man, aged twenty-two, and Balder, fifteen years of age, and already bigger and taller than Loki, though a good two or three inches shorter than Thor.

It hadn't escaped the doctor's notice how thoroughly unlike Loki all of them looked, with the men sporting broad, handsome features, and all of them with golden blonde hair, save Odin, whose hair was a shock of white, matching his thick beard, and all of them with sun-kissed skin.

It didn't surprise Bruce then, to find out Loki was indeed adopted, taken in when he was only an infant, after having been found by the authorities, abandoned on the streets of London in the dead of one of the worst winters on record there. The child had nearly died, according to his files, had already fallen into a state of hypothermia, and it had been weeks before anyone knew if he would make it or not.

That he did was more of a surprise than if he had succumbed to his condition, frail and undersized as he supposedly had been.

Moving down the file, Bruce continues to again read what he's gone over before.

Loki, apparently, is very, very smart.

There is a list of results in his file, gathered from a slew of intelligence equivalency tests given to him periodically over the last ten years. On all of them, the boy has scored well off the charts.

The file notes that it wasn't long after his exceptional intelligence began to be noticed by the adults around him, that his mental health issues began also to surface.

It notes further that Loki has been in and out of various mental institutions for the past six years of his life.

It says he likes art. He likes to paint and draw, and he likes to write. It notes he has filled dozens upon dozens of journals with his writing, and there are a number of folders that were brought along with him containing his numerous sketches and drawings and paintings.

Bruce hasn't had a chance to look at any of it.

He hopes today he might get permission from Loki to do so, though it isn't looking particularly promising at the moment.

The doctor sighs, finally closing the file and looking back up at his new patient.

"So, Loki…" he begins, keeping his voice gentle and calm.

Loki doesn't move. Gives no indication of even hearing him. He just keeps staring out the window, silent. His fingers twitch minutely around his cigarette, and Bruce leans forward across the desk, plucking the thing away.

Loki turns to him then, a flash of anger crossing over his delicate features, light green eyes burning dangerously.

Someone so waifish shouldn't be able to look so imposing, but there it is.

Bruce smiles at him, grinding the cigarette out in an ashtray.

"How are you feeling today?" He asks.

Loki glares at him a long moment more, fingers still twitching, around empty space now, before abruptly, he folds his upheld hand against his chest, thin fingers curling into the loose material of his shirt, and he turns away, staring back out the window.

He looks tragically young, and, Bruce supposes, he is.

He isn't even legally old enough to be smoking, but he'd thrown such a fit the first day, when they'd tried to keep his pack of cigarettes from him, that they'd just given up and allowed him that one concession.

He holds himself like he's trying to hide.

"Have you managed to make any friends yet?" Bruce tries.

There are several other patients on Loki's ward, though most of them are older than he is, and the doctor knows the boy tends to keep largely to himself.

There's only been one incident between him and another patient, a week ago. Clint Barton, who's been here at St. Agatha's for about three years now, had tried talking to Loki, and when Loki hadn't responded, Clint had become a little aggressive, as he tended to, and a scene had broken out.

That was putting it mildly, but it was important to only use certain types of terminology around the patients, Bruce knew.

Clint had ended up beating Loki up a little, slapping him around pretty good until the orderlies and nurses had been able to pull him off. He hadn't really hurt Loki all that much, thank God, but Loki had been crying anyway, and it had taken hours to get him to really calm down.

Nurse Rogers, that's who the report had listed as the one who'd finally gotten Loki to settle, who'd eased him back down from panic and terror.

Bruce thinks he's going to have to speak with Rogers about it, just to get a clearer picture on exactly what happened, and hopefully, it will help him in his treatment of Loki as well, if he's lucky.

Loki gives no reply to his question about friends, which doesn't surprise the doctor. He just keeps staring out the window, his hands now clasped too tightly together in his lap. Bruce watches him a long moment, noting how anxious and even nervous the boy is.

He's going to have to be gentle with him.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about Loki?" He tries instead, giving the control over to the boy, hoping for the best.

Loki doesn't even glance at him, his hands only winding tighter about each other, before abruptly, they come apart and he digs his fingers into the loose material of his pants. Tension thrums visibly through his skin and bones frame.

Bruce sighs quietly to himself, folding his own hands together along the desk.

"Would you like to go back to your room now Loki?" He asks softly.

Loki's arms come up around himself, folding in and fingers digging what looks painfully into the scarce flesh of his limbs. He nods jerkily, looking down to the floor, and Bruce nods back.

"Okay." He says. "That's okay."

/

Loki, Steve Rogers thinks, is an incredibly good looking kid. Beautiful, really, but not feminine. His features are sharp, fine and delicate, his body all smooth, long lines, even with how awfully thin he is, with porcelain pale skin and eyes brighter and more expressive and more intelligent than any Steve thinks he's ever seen.

It makes him wonder, and makes his heart ache then, that someone that incredible looking could be so messed up. Natures way, he guesses, of equaling the balance between people. That's how it seems sometimes, but it still feels unfair to him.

If Loki were well in the head, Steve's sure he would have girls all over him. He's that good looking.

Only, looking at him now, hunched in on himself, arms wrapped tight and protectively around his bare torso, Steve has the distinct impression Loki's probably never even kissed anyone, or had anyone kiss him. Never experienced any kind of romantic relationship or intimate contact. He's painfully shy, trying to hide himself away as he sits there on the exam table, his face turned down, and Steve doesn't think he's once actually looked directly at him.

At least he's able to sit still for him. Any of the other nurses trying to get near the kid has only resulted in Loki throwing a fit and writhing violently in his attempts to get away from their touch.

Steve doesn't know what it is about himself that makes Loki more calm, but he isn't about to question it.

He wants to help the boy.

Right now, that entails disinfecting and patching up a gash running along the kid's spine, something he got from one of the other patients ramming him into the knob of a door a little while earlier.

It seems Loki has a tendency to somehow spook some of the other, more volatile residents here. Steve's not sure why, since Loki is about the quietest, most withdrawn mental patient he's ever dealt with. Maybe it's because of that that he unsettles some of the others. They're used to screaming and hollering from each other. Loki just sits there and doesn't say anything.

Steve wishes they would leave the kid alone though. Looking at him, Loki doesn't seem like he can defend himself too well, and seeing him get beat up, even if just a little, is heartbreaking.

Especially since it makes Loki cry. He doesn't wail or sob or anything. The tears just run fast and thick down his face, and he doesn't make a sound. Last week, when Barton smacked him around, no one even knew it was happening until the other patients started making a racket over it, since Loki himself didn't cry out at all.

But no one could get the kid to stop crying until a long while after they pulled Clint off him either, until Steve was finally able to step in and calm him down. It'd been scary for a while, with the way Loki's breath was coming so short and erratic and the tears just kept running down his cheeks.

"Alright," Steve starts, unwrapping one of the disinfectant wipes from its package and moving cautiously towards his patient. "I'm just gonna get this cut cleaned and patched up for you Loki, and then you can go back to the dayroom. How's that sound?"

Loki doesn't answer him, though Steve doesn't expect him to. He's only heard the kid talk a handful of times, and never more than a word or two at a time.

And so he simply goes about his work, being delicate as he cleans the wound. Loki still flinches at the contact of the cool wipe against his skin, and Steve mutters a quiet apology. But Loki seems to settle after that, and Steve finishes the task quickly, covering the wound up with a waterproof bandage, smoothing out its edges to make sure it's securely on before stepping back and nodding.

"Alright kiddo, you can put your shirt back on now."

Loki glances at him briefly, eyes nervous and unsure.

"You want me to turn around?" Steve asks, picking up on what the problem is pretty fast.

Loki gives a single, jerky nod, and Steve smiles, nodding back.

"Alright." He says. "You just tell me when you're ready."

And he turns his back to Loki, waiting patiently.

There's the sound of some rustling as Loki shifts about on the paper covering the exam bed, and it's taking longer for him to get his shirt on than it would for any normal person, considering it's just a singlet. But Loki's not okay. Steve knows that. None of the patients here are, really. That's why they're here.

Finally, he hears Loki speak, voice low and rough and upper class. It's strange.

"Alright." Is all he says, and when Steve turns back around, Loki is sitting again with his arms crossed over his chest, hunched down, short sleeved shirt in place.

Steve smiles at him again.

"Alright." He says. "You can walk okay?"

Another, jerky nod from the boy.

"Then follow me." The nurse replies, turning on his heel. He hears Loki sliding off the exam table, his slippers flapping softly against the rubber flooring as he follows Steve out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Every Saturday, someone from Loki's family comes to visit.

This week, it's his two brothers, Thor and Balder.

It's the first time Steve's meeting either of them, ever since he's been put on regular watch duty with Loki, and immediately upon greeting the two at the entrance to the dayroom, the nurse understands about Loki being adopted.

His young patient couldn't look more different from the two brothers.

Thor is incredibly friendly, and Balder seems nice enough. The two of them are _big_. Another marked difference between them and Loki. Loki's tall, taller than Steve, but he's thin as a rail and looks like he'd get knocked straight over from a stiff breeze. Steve's finding it hard to believe Balder's only fifteen, given his build. And Thor just looks like he could bench press a semi.

"He's right in here fella's." Steve says to them with a smile, turning to lead them into the dayroom.

He hears Balder whispering to Thor about getting the heebie jeebies from the place, and Thor hushing him quietly.

"Just over there." Steve points towards the far end of the room, near the closed window on the right hand side. Loki's sitting there in front of it in a straight backed chair, staring out at the back yard of the hospital. He's alone.

"There's chairs all over the place." Steve informs the brothers. "You can just grab a couple and have a seat with him if you like."

Thor thanks him and gives a light smack along his younger brother's shoulder, indicating for him to follow.

Steve watches them head towards Loki for a brief, few seconds, making sure everything's fine.

He sees Loki start slightly when Thor puts a hand on his shoulder, noticeably more gently than he'd slapped Balder.

When Loki looks up to see his older brother, that's when Steve turns away, wanting to give them their privacy.

/

"Hey Loki." Thor says softly, smiling down at him, and for an instant, Loki's eyes go slightly wide, followed by a look of such naked relief, it nearly breaks Thor's heart.

"Thor…" he breaths, and a moment later, he's starting to stand.

Thor doesn't even let him get fully up out of the chair before he's enveloping the smaller boy in a hug, pulling him against his chest and resting his chin atop his dark hair.

Thor hates the way he can feel just how _little _of Loki there is. He's painfully, worryingly thin. Their parents and the doctors here have told him he's still struggling with eating, but that they're doing their best to get his weight up.

It isn't good enough for Thor though.

He's so worried about his little brother.

Loki trembles slightly in his arms, thin, long hands coming up and burying in the material of Thor's t-shirt. Thor shushes him slightly, cupping the back of Loki's head in his palm, holding his face to his shoulder.

"It's okay." He says. "Hey, it's okay."

Loki doesn't say anything, just keeps holding him back.

Thor glances briefly at Balder, who looks intensely uncomfortable. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he keeps looking away from his two older brothers, like he can't take the sight of what's happening.

Thor can't totally blame him.

It's been really hard, and Balder's just a kid. He can't be expected to handle any of this well.

Eventually, Thor loosens his grip on Loki, letting him go. He keeps his hands on his little brothers shoulders, smiling down at him as he steps back.

Loki looks awful.

He looks frail.

But Thor doesn't allow his worry to come into his features.

"Balder's here too." He says happily, nodding over his shoulder, and Loki's eyes shift from him to his younger brother.

"Hey Lok's." Balder says, smiling weakly at him.

Loki doesn't say anything as he steps around Thor and moves towards Balder, putting his arms around the other boy without warning, hugging him as tightly as he'd held on to Thor.

Thor sees Balder stiffen slightly, his expression tight. He hesitates a moment before his own arms lift, wrapping loosely round Loki's bony frame.

Things between his two younger siblings have always been… tense, Thor knows.

Loki's mental problems had really started taking shape when Balder had only been about five, and the younger boy had never really understood what any of it meant. For a long time, all he'd really known was that one of his older brother's, the one who had been so much closer in age to him, and so a more constant companion than Thor, had no longer been able to be that for him. Loki's condition had gradually worsened over the years, until it seemed he was spending more time inside of hospitals than out, and Balder had grown to resent that, and resent Loki's being sick at all. All of the attention placed on Loki for it hadn't helped either.

Thor can remember having arguments with Balder, some not so long ago, Balder asking him and their parents angrily why Loki couldn't just "get over it", insisting that Loki should be better by now, even going so far as to accuse Loki of faking it in order to garner attention for himself.

Their Mother had actually slapped Balder across the face when he'd done that, and proceeded to explain to him that he had better never say anything like that around Loki, ever.

Thor had only been able to agree.

Loki wasn't faking anything.

Balder couldn't be expected to understand. He'd been kept shielded from most of Loki's more severe episodes, though he'd been there for a few scary moments.

Only, the truth was, Loki was suffering. He'd been suffering for years, and no matter how many doctors they went to, and new medications they tried, nothing seemed able to rescue Loki from the nightmare that was his own, treacherous mind.

Thor thinks, if Balder were a little older and more mature, and he understood just what it was Loki went through every day, he would be a little kinder to his older brother.

Eventually, Loki loosens his grip, and as he steps away from Balder, his face turned down, and he stands there awkwardly a moment, like he isn't sure what to do.

Loki knows Balder has issues with him. That Thor knows too. Loki is too smart not to, and he's always read people as easily as one could read a book. Loki knows, but he loves Balder as much as he ever has, and he makes the effort every time.

It hurts Thor to see it.

He wishes desperately things could be different.

He's wished it for so long now.

Abruptly, Loki seems to animate, his eyes going wider.

"Oh, I just remembered!" He exclaims suddenly, and both Thor and Balder watch as he turns from them, bending down beside his chair, where one of his art portfolio's rests.

Loki seems to be having a good day today. He's clear and coherent so far, and that makes Thor happy.

Loki's had fewer and fewer good days over the last few years.

There's a few moments of Loki shifting through the contents of the folder, before finally he pulls two separate pieces from it and stands, turning back to them.

"I did these for you." He holds them out, one to each of them.

Thor is the first to take his, and he smiles down at it, the image of two boys playing in an open field. It's beautifully rendered, and again, Thor finds himself in true admiration of his brother's talent.

"It's beautiful Loki." He says, looking up to him. "Thank you so much. I'm going to have it framed and hung on my bedroom wall."

Loki looks away shyly, shrugging.

"It isn't that good." He mutters, but Thor can see the very vague smile which plays along his lips, and he knows it means the world to his little brother to hear his work is liked.

Loki's wanted to be an artist since he was a little kid.

Balder finally takes his, staring down at it, also an image of two boys, these ones embracing.

Thor doesn't miss the struggle along the younger boy's features not to sneer, and so he knows Loki doesn't miss it either.

There's a forced smile pulled up along Balder's lips a moment later as he raises his eyes to Loki.

"… Thanks Lok's." He says tightly, and Loki only gives a single, jerky nod, staring away. His arms come up around himself protectively, and Thor wants powerfully to scold Balder.

He knows his youngest sibling is at that age where things like what Loki's drawing depicts aren't considered "cool", but damn it, the kid could try a little harder.

"Why don't we sit down Loki?" Thor asks instead, trying to keep things positive.

"Okay." Loki says quietly, still looking at the floor.

Thor makes sure Loki has his own seat and is securely down before taking his own. Balder handles himself fine.

A few, strained moments of silence pass, Loki staring out the window again.

Thor sees Balder roll his eyes from the periphery of his own vision, huffing silently as he turns his own attention towards observing the dayroom.

Thor keeps his own on Loki.

"So how do you like it here brother?" Thor asks him gently.

A long, few seconds pass without reply, and Thor fears for an instant that Loki's retreated back into himself again. On days like that, you're lucky if you can get him to say one word.

But then Loki shifts, moving his eyes from the window and back to Thor.

"I want to go back to Asgard Thor." He says.

"Oh for… here we go." Balder mutters at his side.

Thor ignores him.

"I don't like it here Thor." Loki goes on, apparently either not hearing or ignoring Balder too. "I don't like it. Everyone hates me. And they're always watching me. Always saying things about me. I want to go back to Asgard."

"You _can't_ go back to Asgard Loki." Balder suddenly cuts in, not even trying to hide the contempt from his voice now. "You burnt it down, _remember_? You'd think you'd remember something like that, since you're supposed to be so much smarter than the rest of us."

"Balder, _be quiet_." Thor nearly growls, his own voice thick with warning.

Loki stares confusedly at Balder for a moment, like he doesn't understand. Thor knows, for a moment, that Loki _doesn't_. He doesn't remember.

And then Loki blinks, looking away, his arms coming up and wrapping round himself. He doesn't say anything.

Asgard was their farm, back when they still lived in England. A sprawling, 200 acre property where they had kept their main home.

What had happened hadn't been Loki's fault, and Thor is going to have to have words with Balder once they leave here today. He feels his anger already mounting. It's only for Loki's sake he keeps a lid on it.

More than anything, it had been their parent's fault, for leaving Loki alone with Balder that day. The both of them worked, had careers, and they hadn't been able to find anyone to watch their two youngest.

Loki had been twelve at the time, Balder ten. Thor had already gone off to college, and that was the problem. It was usually him who kept on an eye on Loki for them.

Loki had had an episode that day. He'd thought they were being attacked by some sort of monsters, and in his panic and fear, he'd found a book of matches and tried using them as a weapon to stave them off. He'd been throwing lit matches onto the living room floor, seeing something that wasn't there. The curtains had caught, and the fire had, from there, spread quickly.

Thor knows Balder's anger doesn't just come from the fact they lost their home, but because Loki had nearly died that day rescuing him from the burning house.

It had all been caught on their home security feed.

When Loki had seen what was happening, that the house was being engulfed in flames, he'd gone running upstairs to find his younger brother, who'd been up in his room, listening to music on his headphones, completely oblivious to what was going on downstairs.

Loki had grabbed hold of him, ignoring Balder's annoyed protests, lifting him up and carrying him down through the house, already thick with smoke and fire spreading rapidly through each downstairs room.

The front door by then had already been blocked by part of the roof caving in, and so Loki had thrown a bookend through a window and shoved Balder through it, screaming at him to go and run.

Balder had been crying violently at that point, and tried begging Loki to follow, but Loki had shaken his head and run back farther into the house, even as it had been coming down around him. The security cameras hadn't picked it up, but Balder would later tell them that Loki had said he had to go rescue his pets.

Loki had called them his friends.

They had been his only friends, really.

Fenrir, his little dog, and Jormugandr, a little garner snake he kept in a large, glass tank.

Neither of them had made it. Loki had ended up collapsing from the smoke. Balder had, thank God, called emergency using his cell phone, and by the time they'd arrived and gotten Loki out, he'd barely even been breathing.

Sometimes Loki doesn't remember his pets are gone, like he doesn't remember Asgard is too, and he asks after them, wants to know where they are, if they're doing alright.

Slowly, Thor reaches out, placing a hand gently along Loki's knee. He can feel the barely visible tremor working through his little brother's frame.

"Loki," he starts softly. "we don't have Asgard anymore. Remember? We live in the States now. Yes?"

Loki keeps his arms around himself, his head bowing farther. He doesn't say anything.

"You know what," Balder says, standing abruptly from his chair. "I can't deal with this right now. You handle it Thor, I'm going home."

"Balder!" Thor calls to him, indignant at his youngest brother's behavior.

But Balder is already walking away, waving dismissively over his shoulder as he exits the dayroom.

As Thor watches him leave, he catches sight of Loki's drawing, left, forgotten, along the floor beside the now empty chair.

When at last he turns back to Loki, his little brother is looking out the window again, silent and distant and gone.

/

**AN: As always, a huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and let me know your thoughts!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

He's in this room again. The one with a lot of windows and bright light coming in through them, making the floor look like it's glowing.

There's a lot of people in this room. Too many people, and it makes him nervous. It makes him want to run away. But he knows what happens when he tries that. He knows he wouldn't get very far before they caught him, and then he'd be put into that awful jacket again and locked in a smaller room, and they wouldn't let him out for a long, long time, no matter how much he begged and promised to be good.

He misses Thor. And he misses Mom. And he even misses Baldr. Father hasn't come to visit yet, and Loki can't remember why, but he knows for some reason that Father doesn't really like him anymore, and he doesn't really ever come around. It makes him sad, but he doesn't talk about that to anyone. They would use it against him if he did, he knows. They think he's stupid and doesn't know. But he does.

He tries to remember how many days it's been since anyone's come to see him, and he can't really. It was Mom who came by last time, and she'd been crying, and Loki had told her not to, that he was alright, really, he was. But that only seemed to make her cry harder, and then Loki had started crying, and everything after that is sort of gone. He doesn't remember.

There's something crawling all over him today. He keeps itching his skin, trying to make it go away, but it won't, and he knows if he keeps scratching himself like this, he's going to make blood come, and he knows that's bad. That they're watching him. Nurse Rogers is watching him right now. Loki can feel his eyes on him. And he knows they'll put him in that jacket and put him in a small room if he keeps itching his skin, and so he tries not to. But it's hard.

So he shoves his hands under his armpits and squeezes, and tries to look at the pretty trees outside the window he's sitting by, and tries not to think about how much he wants to itch his skin, and how much he misses Mom and Thor and Baldr.

"Hey." Someone says behind him, and Loki is suddenly very scared, and he turns around and sees a man standing over him, and Loki wants to run away. He wants to run far, far away.

The man smiles, and Loki's seen him before. He's one of the other patients here. He's here all the time, talking to the other guys. He's very talkative, and all the other guys seem to like him.

"I'm Tony." He says, and he's reaching his hand out to Loki, like he wants Loki to take it.

Loki only stares at it a moment, his eyes flicking back up to the man's face, wary and distrustful.

If the man notices, he doesn't say anything, just keeps smiling, and then abruptly he reaches down and grabs hold of Loki's hand, shaking it vigorously.

Sickening terror rips through Loki's insides, and he tears his hand away, holding it tight against his chest and shoving back from the man hurriedly, keeping his eyes, wide and vibrating, locked on him.

"Whoa, hey there." The man says, holding his hands up now, as though in surrender. "Calm down kiddo. I was just tryin' to be nice."

Loki says nothing, holding his hands tighter against himself, and he wants Thor, he wants Thor now, now, now, right now!

The man just keeps staring at him, like he's looking at a particularly interesting insect. And then he shrugs.

"You don't have to be afraid of me kid. I'm Tony Stark." He says. "Everyone knows me. Hey, you wanna know something cool? I'm a hero. Like, a real, genuine hero. You heard of Iron Man? Well, that's me. So you don't have to be scared. I protect people. Especially kids. And you're just a kid. How old are you anyway? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

Still, Loki says nothing, and he's starting to shake now. He's so scared, and he wants Thor. He wants his big brother. He wants…

"Hey, hey, hey, Tony…"

Suddenly Nurse Rogers is there, and he's taking the man by the arm, gently, pulling him away from Loki.

"Hey buddy, what did I tell you about walking up to other patients and bothering them Tony?" He asks, looking sternly at the man.

The man just grins back at him and shrugs.

"Dunno." He says. "But the kid looked lonely, sitting over here all by himself, and I thought, hey, he could use a friend. And what better friend than Iron Man?"

Nurse Rogers smiles tightly at him, nodding.

"That's great Tony. But remember I told you, you can't just touch people without their permission. Look how much you scared him Tony. Remember how I told you you gotta watch out for people's reactions?"

The man stares at Nurse Rogers a long moment, before his eyes slide back to Loki, watching him, and Loki looks away, fixing his eyes to the floor, and he's shaking bad now. He's shaking really bad.

"See Tony?" Nurse Rogers asks gently. "That's not okay, is it?"

The man looks back to him, and he shrugs again.

"I guess not." He says flatly.

"Why don't you go over and talk to Clint Tony?" Rogers asks, still smiling. "And I'll make sure Loki's okay. Alright?"

Another shrug from the man, and then he's wandering off in the other direction.

Nurse Rogers turns to Loki, bending down until he's level with him.

Loki still keeps his gaze fixed on the floor, his arms wrapped tight about himself now.

"Hey son, you alright?" The nurse asks softly.

Loki doesn't respond, his only reaction his arms wrapping tighter about his torso, and Steve frowns slightly, heart sinking.

"Hey, Loki…" he reaches out a hand a little ways, stopping short of touching the boy. "listen, Tony's harmless. He was just trying to be friendly, but you know, he can have issues with things like personal space. But he's a patient here, just like you."

At that, Loki shakes his head, still keeping his gaze locked to the floor.

Steve sighs softly.

"Look, can I do anything for you?"

There's a long moment of silence, and Steve thinks then Loki isn't going to answer.

But then his voice comes, barely more than a whisper and slightly hoarse from disuse.

"I want Thor…" he says.

Steve feels his chest tighten, his fingers curling against his palm, lips stretching into a tight line.

He hesitates a moment before he speaks.

"Visiting day's not 'till tomorrow Loki." He says gently. "But I'm sure your brother will come then."

Loki doesn't say anything to that, but his eyes are abruptly filled with thick tears, and they slip quickly, silently down his thin face.

"Ohh, hey, hey, hey…" Steve starts, reaching out slowly. He doesn't even think about it as he swipes his fingers delicately across the boy's cheeks, wiping the tears away. "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry Loki. Your family'll come tomorrow. They always do."

Only the tears won't stop coming, and so Steve does the only thing he can think to, wrapping his arms about the boy and pulling him into a tight hug.

Loki doesn't hug back, but he doesn't pull away either, and Steve can feel him trembling.

Steve holds onto him for a while then, until he feels Loki beginning to calm a little, and then he pulls back, looking down at the boy and smiling reassuringly.

"Say, how about we go back to your room for now, huh? You can take a nap, and then you'll feel better. I promise."

Loki only looks back at him, eyes still tear filled and red rimmed, and Steve puts an arm around his thin shoulders, taking hold of his hand and lifting him to his feet.

"Come on." He says.

And Loki gives no protest as he's lead away from the window, and out of the dayroom, back to his own.

/

**AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter guys! Please let me know what you thought. For anyone wondering about my other stories, my computer busted on me, and so I haven't been able to work on them, but I'm getting it fixed tomorrow and will hopefully have new chapters up for my other works soon! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Loki is hunched in on himself, pressed into the corner against which the upper right side of his bed is pushed, his arms wrapped tight about himself. He is shaking, violently, swaying precariously back and then forward.

Frigga sits across from him, her balled hand pressed against her lips as she struggles not to cry.

"I w-want… I want to go… I w-want to go…" Loki stammers, voice trembling as thick tears slip past his eyes, down his too pale face.

She swallows, thick and painful.

"Loki…" she tries, reaching out, and then flinches back when he explodes in seeming anger.

"NO!" He cries sharply, and she watches as he again curls in on himself a moment later, head bowing and shaking. "No," he says, more softly. "no, don't… I'll… I'll burn you, I'll…"

"Loki…" she tries, voice trembling as she fights back tears.

Oh, she can't bear this. She can't stand to see her beautiful boy suffering like this.

Telling him it isn't real doesn't help anything.

"Wh… why… why didn't you t-tell me." He weeps. "Why didn't you tell me what I was from the beginning?"

"Loki," Frigga tries desperately. "You are our son. You're only our son."

"I'm a monster." He says, voice uneven, broken and shuddering. Tears slip ceaseless down his face, and he won't look at her. "I'm a monster."

This is one of Loki's many delusions, and it is the one, perhaps, that most makes Frigga's heart blister with pain.

"Loki, you aren't. You're my sweet boy. You're my darling boy."

He doesn't respond for long seconds then, eyes still cast away.

"Ii… is Thor… is Th-Thor going to kill me? Is he going to…"

Frigga has to fight to keep the horror from her expression.

This is new. Whatever this is.

She glances behind her, through the window in the door to Loki's room. She doesn't see Thor, though she knows he's waiting out there with Jane.

Dr. Banner has told them it's probably a good idea to only visit Loki one or two at a time, saying that any number of people that could be construed as a group puts unneeded stress on him.

She turns back to her son, hands ringing nervously in her lap, swallowing thickly before she can say anything.

"Loki, baby…" she swallows again. "Why would you say something like that? Your brother loves you so much. You… you know that. Don't you?"

Loki's arms wrap tighter round his middle, head bowing lower still.

"He… h-he's the gi-giant slayer. He's… he said he w-would hunt… hunt the monsters down and s-slay them all. That's what he said."

Frigga feels her heart sink low in her chest, her throat constricting, and she can't help the few tears which stray from her eyes.

"Baby, no. No…" she says. "Your big brother loves you Loki. He would never hurt you."

Abruptly, he lifts his face to her, eyes huge and glassy with unshed tears, threatening to spill any moment.

"Is… i-is he here?" The boy asks, voice trembling. "Is Thor here?"

Frigga nods weakly.

"Yes darling. He's just right outside. He's waiting with Jane to come and see you. You… you remember Jane, don't you? Thor's fiancée?"

Loki blinks, and again, rapidly, staring at her with uncomprehending eyes.

Oh, God, she can't bear it.

She looks away, bringing a knuckled hand to her teeth and biting down.

Her beautiful, bright boy. He's so bright, so intelligent. He always has been. Until this sickness, this… this awful sickness ravaged his mind.

She can still remember how clear eyed and focused he used to be, how plainly thoughtful he would look at her, at the entire world around him.

When she sees such utter confusion in his eyes now… when she sees how lost he looks…

She bites harder along her knuckles to stifle the sob which threatens at the back of her throat, the sound coming out instead a weak whimper.

"Is he going to kill me Mum?" He asks suddenly. "Is Thor going to kill me?"

Her eyes shift to him, horrified.

"My God, Loki, _no_." She says. "No baby."

"I-I-I didn't mean to be born a f-frost giant Mum. I didn't mean it." He says.

And Frigga can't stand it anymore. She doesn't care about proper protocol right now. She can't bear to see her baby boy suffer like this.

She stands and moves towards him, kneeling at the bedside and wrapping her arms round his terrifyingly thin frame, pulling him against her tight.

Loki doesn't move but for the shuddering through his body, his hands bunched up and pressed against his own chest, trapped between them. Frigga cups the back of his head, holding his face to her shoulder and rocking him gently.

"Loki, my boy. My sweet, darling boy. It's alright. It's alright. We all love you so much."

Loki says nothing, doesn't struggle or push her away. Just lays there against her and lets her comfort him.

She prays that's what she's doing. That he gets some kind of assurance from this.

It's so hard to tell sometimes.

For a long time, she just holds him there, combing her fingers through his short hair, humming softly to him, until she feels the trembling through him gradually begin to lessen, feels the wound up tension begin to give, if only somewhat.

"Loki, honey, I'm going to send Thor in now, alright?"

She tenses even as the words leave her lips, fearing how he might react.

But he only continues to lie against her, saying nothing.

Carefully then, she leans him back off of her, making certain he's steady, grasping his arms gently. She looks him in the face, summoning up a smile as best she can, and she prays he doesn't see how it fails to reach her eyes.

"I love you Loki." She says, before leaning in and pressing her lips to his forehead.

His skin is slightly flushed and feels too warm. She's going to have to stop by Dr. Banner's office before leaving and ask him to send a physician in to check on her son.

He looks back at her, still silent, the same, lost look in his eyes, and she forces herself to lean in and kiss him along the forehead one last time before she stands and moves to the door.

"I'll be here again on Friday Loki. I promise you."

But he's curled back in on himself now, turning away, rocking again where he sits along his cot.

It's all Frigga can do to push the door open and leave her son behind.

/

Thor pushes the door open as quietly as he's able, poking his head through the crack and spotting his little brother right where their Mother had said she'd left him.

He's got his knees up to his chest, arms folded across them and face buried there.

He looks like an overgrown child, and at the thought, Thor feels his heart ache. In a lot of ways, it isn't so far off from the truth.

Sick as Loki is in the head, he isn't sure if he'll ever be well enough to take care of himself. Not really.

Mum had told him too about what Loki was saying, thinking, somehow, that he was going to hurt him in some way. Hearing that had nearly made Thor burst into tears on the spot, and if not for Jane there to support him, he isn't sure he would have had the strength to face Loki now.

He turns, looking back over his shoulder at her and smiles. She smiles back, nodding.

Jane has been so incredible through all of this, he thinks.

Back when he'd first met her, a couple years ago now, and Loki had been really showing signs of suffering mental illness more and more, he'd been terrified for her to meet him, afraid she would freak out and run away.

But he'd been angry at himself for the thought, realizing that if anyone had that kind of an issue with his little brother, then it was just tough, and in the end, he was always going to choose his family over everything else.

It turned out he needn't have worried though.

Jane had been so amazing with Loki. She'd treated him with so much respect and real attention. Not just placating him or trying to impress Thor. She'd treated Loki like a real human being, with real feelings. Treated him as actually intelligent, not like so many who made the mistake of thinking that Loki's mental problems meant he was mentally retarded or something.

Thor had lost count of the number of times he'd been filled with an almost violent rage, watching people talk to Loki like he was stupid, or like he was a very young child.

Christ, if they only knew. Loki was so smart. He was so, so smart. He could have graduated college when he was still in his early teens if it hadn't been for… for…

He pushes the memories away, trying to focus on the positive.

What had been just as vital had been Loki's reaction to Jane.

It had been important to Thor that his little brother like her. Loki's opinion was always important to Thor, no matter what.

And to his great relief, Loki had taken to her as though she were a big sister. He simply _adored _her, his whole face lighting up whenever she was around him. And he would talk with her for hours, on days when he was more lucid and alright. And Jane would never seem to grow tired of him, even when he became repetitive or would start saying things which weren't based completely in reality, like Loki sometimes did.

She's was simply _good_ to him, and perhaps that, more than anything, was what sold Thor on her being the girl for him.

He turns back then, raising his hand and wrapping softly against the doorframe, alerting Loki to his presence.

When Loki looks up at him, Thor smiles warmly.

"Hi." He says, and his throat constricts at the way Loki's eyes widen just noticeably, and he pushes back against the wall behind him, as though afraid.

"Th-Thor?" He asks, voice shaky.

"And me too." Jane suddenly pokes her head in underneath Thor's arm, waving.

At the sight of her, Loki actually visibly relaxes. He doesn't smile, but Thor can see some of the tension seep out of his frame, and abruptly he's a thousand times more grateful that Jane decided to skip work and come with him today.

"Hey kiddo." She goes on, smiling broadly as Thor lets her past, and into the room. "How ya doing little man?"

Loki stares up at her, blinking rapidly, recognition bright in his eyes.

"… Hi Jane." He finally says after a long moment, voice almost a whisper.

He almost smiles even at the sight of her, his lips seeming to twitch a moment before falling again.

Jane doesn't hesitate to take the seat Frigga had earlier occupied, reaching out and taking Loki's hands in hers, giving them a light squeeze and smiling more broadly.

Loki lets her without protest.

"You look so handsome little man." She says, and Thor feels like his heart will shatter into a thousand useless pieces at the way Loki does smile at that, though weakly, his eyes drifting shyly away.

Loki's never had anyone. Never had any kind of a girlfriend or anything. He's never even really had… had any _friends_, beyond his family and Jane. Thor's and Baldr's friends were never really Loki's. They'd talk to him once in a while, but they were put off by him and his sickness too.

Only Sif was ever very nice to him.

It makes Thor want to break down into tears, just thinking about the fact that, if Loki continues to be as sick as he is for the rest of his life, he probably won't ever get to experience what it feels like to be in love, or have someone be in love with you. Not in that way, anyway.

He tries not to think about it now. Tries to keep himself positive. Loki needs positive. He needs his family to be there for him, to be strong.

He takes the seat beside Sif's and smiles at his little brother.

"Hey Loki." He says softly, hunching down slightly to try and make himself look smaller.

Loki glances up at him quickly, and then away again.

He looks so scared, and Thor wishes desperately there were something he could do or say to make that fear go away.

He wishes he could make Loki's mind better.

A long moment stretches in silence, and Loki's frame is wound tight again, his breath quickening.

"… I… I d-didn't mean to be a f-frost giant Thor." He says softly. "I didn't mean it. P-please don't be angry at me. Please don't kill me."

"Oh God, Loki…" Thor starts, but Jane interrupts him.

"Loki," she says, gentle but firm. She gives his hands another squeeze. "Thor's not going to hurt you little man. Has he ever hurt you before?"

Loki swallows visibly, still looking away.

Eventually, he shakes his head, a shallow little movement.

"Okay." Jane goes on, smiling. "So if he's never hurt you before, he really wouldn't have any reason to do so now, right?"

Loki doesn't reply to that, keeping his gaze on his lap.

"Do you understand honey?" She asks. "Thor's not going to do anything to hurt you. Okay?"

"… Okay." Loki finally says.

Only Thor can't help but feel like nothing's okay.

Nothing's been okay in a long, long time.

/

**AN: Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far! I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and if you have a chance, please leave a review! Thanks again!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

_Baldr laughs at another one of his friend's crude jokes, hard enough tears spring to his eyes._

_He knows he'd be in deep if Mom heard them. She'd chew him out for sure._

_He keeps laughing as his friend carries on, the whole group in stitches over it._

_It's less than pleasing, then, when in the middle of it all, he happens to glance off behind him and sees Loki coming towards their group._

_He groans inwardly, eyes rolling._

"God, what does he want_?" He thinks despairingly._

_Baldr had hoped plopping his brother down in front of that sock puppet show would keep him occupied. He'd seemed so entranced by the stupid thing._

_He turns back to his friends, doing his best to ignore what's coming, praying, though he already knows vainly, that Loki will get a fucking clue and leave him alone._

_Christ, he doesn't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys._

_He isn't surprised, but it's nonetheless disappointing, when he hears Loki behind him, standing obnoxiously close and saying his name._

"_Baldr?" He starts, and Baldr closes his eyes a moment, teeth clenching in frustration._

_He continues to ignore his older brother, and what a laugh that is, he thinks. Loki's his "older" brother, but he acts like a fucking baby._

"_Baldr?" Loki says again, as per usual not taking a hint._

"_Baldr?"_

"_Hey, Baldr, there's a girl behind you. I think she wants to fuck you man." Billy laughs, the rest of them joining in._

"_Shut up, stupid." Baldr snaps, before finally turning around, glaring up at Loki with venom._

_It's ridiculous, he thinks, that Loki's so much taller than him, but he's got the build of an eight year old, scrawny as hell. He doesn't get it, really, when he and Thor are big and strong, just like their Dad._

_Loki's staring back at him with that fucking confused, lost look on his face he has all the time, and Baldr feels his anger growing._

_Loki's supposed to be a genius, according to all the IQ tests and evaluations he's taken and had done, but Baldr sometimes wonders if they didn't get that wrong, and Loki's actually really a retard. He acts like a retard. _

_The doctors say its mental illness, but isn't being a retard a mental illness too? And why the hell is he always getting stuck with babysitting duty?_

_If Loki's his older brother, shouldn't it be the opposite? Isn't Loki supposed to be looking out for him?_

_He can hear Mom, telling him to stay with Loki and make sure he's safe._

"_Don't let your brother wander off Baldr. Stay with him." She'd said in her stern, serious voice. And Baldr had sighed and nodded, rolling his eyes._

_Mom had gotten angry at him for that._

"_Baldr, you _promise _me you won't let anything happen to your brother, or I won't let you go to the fair, is that understood?"_

_And again, Baldr had nodded, mumbling out an apology._

"_I promise." He'd said._

_He'd forgotten all about it though when he'd spotted a group of his buddies from school._

_He knew he couldn't be seen by them with Loki, and so he'd told his brother to stay where he was, watching that damned puppet show, and Loki had told him okay, leaving Baldr free to meet up with his guys._

_There wasn't any harm in it, Baldr didn't think._

"_What is it Loki?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. "I thought I told you to stay with the puppet show?"_

_Loki's hands fidget nervously in the material of his shirt, his face strained and worried looking._

"_They went away." He tells Baldr, as if that explains anything._

_Baldr crosses his arms, horribly aware of his friends behind him, watching this whole thing unfold. Embarrassment seems inevitable, already uncurling in his belly._

"_So?" He asks. "Can't you go find something else to watch?"_

_Loki shakes his head vigorously, hands still fidgeting._

"_I want to go home. Baldr, I want to go home." He repeats himself._

"_Hey, Baldr, who's the retard?" Daniel chuckles at his back._

_Baldr grits his teeth, ignoring the comment._

"_Loki, can't you see I'm with my friends?" He asks lowly. "Man, come on. You're fifteen. Can't you walk home yourself?"_

_Again, Loki shakes his head, his expression growing suddenly, terribly distressed._

"_Mom says we've gotta go home together. Baldr, Mom says."_

"_Its a couple blocks Loki!" Baldr finally snaps, hearing his friends begin to laugh. "Just go. You don't need me."_

_And then there it is._

_Loki's eyes tear up, his expression dangerously close to crumpling._

"_I can't Baldr." He says, voice trembling. "I can't. I can't. Mom says…"_

"_Hey, retard!" Suddenly Billy's there, shoving in front of Baldr, getting up in Loki's face._

_Loki stumbles back, abrupt, plain fear crossing his features._

"_He told you to fuck off! Don't you understand?" Billy goes on, closing the distance between them._

_It all happens so fast, Baldr doesn't even have time to register the movement until afterwards._

_Billy grabs hold of Loki's collar and shoves him, hard._

_Loki loses his balance, going down and falling into the dirt on his bottom._

_He's staring up at Billy with naked terror in his eyes, mouth wide open and tears streaming down his cheeks._

_Billy takes another step forward, threatening, and Loki throws his hands up in front of him in a pitiful attempt to defend himself, head ducking down, shoulders hunching. He's shaking violently all of a sudden._

"_Hey!" Baldr finally snaps out of his shock, reaching out, grabbing hold of Billy's shirt and yanking him back. "Stop it!"_

"_What man!?" Billy turns on him, angry and confused. "This retard's bugging you! I'm just getting rid of him!"_

"_He's my brother, you fucking asshole!" Baldr hisses. "Don't fucking touch him!"_

"That's_ your brother?" Jake snickers behind them._

"_He's a fuckin' tard." Daniel goes on._

"_Fuck you!" Baldr snaps, turning on them. "Just… fuck, shut the hell up! He's smarter than all of you put together!"_

_He's abruptly furious, disgusted._

_His friends all scoff._

"_Yeah, right." Billy laughs._

_And Baldr's had it._

_He turns away, moving towards his brother and bending down, taking Loki under the arms and helping him back up to his feet._

_Loki's shaking uncontrollably, long, bonelike hands clinging desperately to him._

"_I w-want to go home. Baldr. I ww-want to go h-home." He entreats almost frantically._

"_Alright." Baldr tells him, holding him close, arm around his narrow shoulders. "It's alright. We'll go home now. Okay?"_

"_I want to go home." Loki repeats himself again._

"_We are." Baldr promises, hand moving up to cradle the back of Loki's head as he presses his face to his shoulder. "We are."_

_He doesn't bother looking back at his friends as he leads Loki from the grounds._

_Ignores the names they call after them, for him and Loki both._

Baldr shakes himself from the memory, focusing on the present, on Loki sitting across from him, face buried in some thick text book, eyes never leaving the page even as he's writing, working through some insanely complex equations.

Baldr remembers how angry he'd been, for a long time, because Billy and Daniel and Jake, they'd all fallen out with him after that incident at the fair.

He'd been angry at Loki. He'd blamed Loki. For being so messed up. For embarrassing him and interfering with his social life, because he couldn't just take care of himself.

He knows now how stupid that was. How nonsensical it was to blame his brother.

Loki couldn't help the way he was. He didn't mess things up for Baldr on purpose.

Sometimes Baldr still felt angry at Loki. Sometimes he still got resentful.

Only sometimes though.

And looking at his big brother now, sitting there, working passionately and expertly at something beyond all of them, he feels none of that.

In a way, he almost feels proud, that he's related to someone so smart, even if not by blood.

Though that pride's undercut by a crushing and acute sense of sadness.

Loki's so broken, and he just doesn't know how to help him.

"Hey Loki," he starts quietly, not wanting to startle his brother. "Whatch'a got there?"

Loki doesn't respond, continuing his work as though he hasn't heard Baldr, and the younger boy sighs quietly.

He knows Loki isn't being rude. He just gets lost in his own head a lot.

He reaches forward then, gently taking the text book from under Loki, turning it around to look at the cover.

Loki blinks, confused a moment it seems, before lifting his face to Baldr, staring back at him silently. There isn't any anger or annoyance in his expression. Just a kind of puzzlement.

"Advanced Quantum Mechanics and Physics" the title reads.

Baldr chuckles softly.

"Man, this is what you read for fun, huh?" He says, mostly to himself. "I guess you really are a genius bro."

He hands the book back, laying it face up the way it was, but Loki's attention has been taken from it now, and he's still looking at Baldr.

Baldr smiles at him.

"Sorry." He says. "I just wanted to see."

Loki continues staring back, expression unreadable, before something seems to light in his eyes. Some sort of recognition.

"Baldr." He smiles back, as though just realizing his younger brother was there, as though he hadn't been at all aware of him for the past ten minutes. "How are you? Are you doing well in school?"

Baldr forces himself to continue smiling, feeling something unpleasant shift inside him.

He shrugs.

"Yeah, pretty good. Mostly B's." He answers.

A look of something akin to concern passes over Loki's features.

"Do you need help with your course work?" He asks, genuine and earnest.

Baldr shakes his head, knowing his brother means it, but knowing too Loki these days isn't often lucid enough to be of any help at all.

"I'm alright." He says. "I'm just taking regular courses. No AP stuff for me. And Mom or Dad can help if I'm struggling with anything."

"Oh." Loki says, and Baldr instantly feels awful at the clear disappointment he hears in his voice. "O-okay."

Baldr swallows.

He hates this. He hates when he doesn't know what to do with his brother.

Thor's always been so much better at this than him. He's always been so much more patient and understanding.

"I'll come and ask for your help though if I run into something really hard." He promises lamely, knowing it's a lie.

It does the job though, Loki's face lighting up, a sincere smile turning up at the corners of his mouth.

Back before things had gotten really bad with Loki, before his mental problems had started really taking over, he'd used to help Baldr and even Thor with all of their school work.

Loki had been a good teacher. Had known how to break even the most seemingly complex mathematical equations and scientific theorem's into basic, clear steps almost anyone should be able to follow.

Thinking about how things used to be only serves to depress Baldr though, and he shoves the memories viciously away.

He came down here today at Thor's urging. Driven too by his own guilt over his last visit with his brother. He knows he shouldn't have acted the way he did, it's just… sometimes he can't handle it. All of this.

"Hey," he starts softly, seeing Loki's gaze drift away from him, staring off at no point in particular. "I brought the chess board."

He offers a smile when Loki's eyes move back to him, relief washing through him that he hasn't lost his brother yet.

Grabbing up his backpack, he pulls the roll up board out of it, laying it down on the floor between them. The pieces are held in a separate box, which he takes out afterwards, proceeding then to arrange them in their proper places.

Loki sits silent through the whole thing, watching intently.

"You up for a game man?" Baldr asks once he's finished, trying to sound encouraging.

And Loki smiles softly at him, nodding, eyes bright and alive in a way that's becoming rare to see.

Even like this, Baldr knows he's got no chance of winning against his brother.

It doesn't really matter.

It makes Loki happy, playing this game.

And that, also, has become something far too little seen in him.

Far too difficult to accomplish.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

_Sometimes, Odin thinks, to his great shame and guilt, that it would have been better had he and Frigga never adopted Loki._

_Every time the thought floats through his mind, his chastises himself inwardly and immediately, horrified at his own selfishness._

_But it's at moments like these when such thoughts assault him, and he wonders despairingly how things could have come to this._

_He remembers vividly the first time he and Frigga laid eyes on Loki, then barely more than a newborn, abandoned by his birth parents and left to die, out in the literal cold of winter. _

_Loki had been such a beautiful baby, and as the years had passed by, had grown into an even more beautiful young boy. He'd always been such a sweet kid, shy and quiet and almost painfully polite. Painfully nice to everyone he met, oddly mature well beyond his years. And that all made sense, when it became all too obvious just how astonishingly, brilliantly intelligent he was._

_Even in those relatively normal times, though, Odin had never been able to find any common ground with his middle and adopted child._

_Where with Thor, his eldest, and Baldr, his youngest, he'd always been able to easily relate, where he saw so very much of himself in his two other boys, athletic, strong, natural leaders the both of them, with outgoing and engaging and charismatic personalities, Loki was exactly the opposite. Withdrawn and almost purely intellectually driven. Loki had never shown any prowess or desire towards athletics, didn't like to socialize, hardly ever spoke, and when he did, it was usually to talk about mathematics or science or some such. Loki was a boy who found himself most content sitting quietly in his room and reading._

_Odin remembers one time taking the boy outside to try and toss the ball with him, the way he frequently did with Thor and Baldr, and the blank, almost confused expression that had been across Loki's face the entire time. Harder still had been just his general lack of ability. He couldn't run very fast, couldn't jump well, had terrible hand/eye coordination. Odin recalls how he'd kept dropping the ball, and how the whole thing had come to an abrupt and horrible halt when, growing frustrated with his adopted son, Odin had thrown the ball hard and fast at him. He'd thought and hoped Loki would snap out of whatever indifference gripped him about the whole affair and catch the ball, but instead, the velocity had proved too much for him, and he hadn't been able to react in time, the thing instead slamming hard into his face and knocking the then seven year old flat onto his back._

_Odin can still hear the terrible and broken sobs which had filled the air then as Loki lay unmoving upon the ground. He'd gone rushing to his son's side, and found him with his nose bloodied and an already ugly bruise forming across the bridge of it, marring his pale skin._

_He'd been filled then with so much regret and anger at himself, telling himself he should have known better. That Loki had always been fragile, and what the hell was wrong with him, throwing the ball so hard to his little boy._

_He hadn't tried anything like that with Loki since, and in the seven years that had passed, the two of them had only seemed to grow further apart._

_It hadn't been long afterwards that the first signs of mental health problems began in his middle son._

_At first, he and Frigga hadn't believed it to be serious. Had thought it was just another quirk of Loki's, deriving from his genius intellect. Of course he was bound to act a little odd at times. When you were that smart, you just weren't like other people._

_But it had quickly grown evident that something more was wrong. Loki acting more and more erratic and unpredictable, becoming frighteningly paranoid and anxious. _

_When Loki had one day come to both of them, crying violently and claiming that he was being followed by people who weren't there, the both of them knew the situation was beyond anything they had feared, and it hadn't taken long after that for them to start bringing their son to mental health professionals, psychiatrists and other doctors, trying desperately to find out what was wrong, and how to help their boy._

_It was only a short time longer before Loki had been diagnosed by a number of different doctors as suffering from the early stages of schizophrenia, though specifically it had taken a number of years for them to pin down precisely what form._

_To say it had been devastating would have been a vast understatement._

_At first, neither he nor his wife had really been willing to accept it, and the other boy's had been too young to understand._

_Foolishly, they'd all tried to go on for a time as though nothing had changed at all. Something they'd been warned against repeatedly by every doctor they'd seen. They were told it was only going to get worse for Loki, and that in turn their own lives were going to grow exponentially more difficult._

_They'd suggested medications, which they'd said would help control Loki's symptoms, but which weren't what anyone would call a cure. They told them there was no cure. Not really. That it was something Loki was going to suffer from for the rest of his life. _

_That had led to them explaining about people who suffered from acute schizophrenia, and how very often their life expectancy wasn't estimated to be very long, for a number of factors._

_Frigga had run from the doctor's offices that day, sobbing and horrified, and Odin had had to run after her._

_The opposite had occurred when they'd suggested institutionalizing Loki. _

_Odin's wife had lost hold of her temper, rare as it was to see at all, and she'd screamed herself hoarse against even the idea._

_Only that had been four years ago, and it was becoming more and more evident every day that neither of them were equipped to take care of Loki. Not really. Not anymore._

_Loki was going insane. There was no other way to say it. Ugly as it was. _

_The boy was fourteen now, but he was less capable of taking care of himself now than he had been at seven, eight years old. Something only exemplified in the fact that Odin was, once again, tasked with giving his son a bath. _

_The responsibility alternated between he and his wife and Thor. Baldr was still too young they thought to really be left with such a burden, though some days they really didn't have a choice. _

_At the moment, Odin finds himself near to tearing his own hair out in frustration and anger._

_Loki is crying with the same abandon and conviction of a very young child, shaking violently and thrashing as Odin tries once more to remove the boy's clothing._

_Finally, he loses it, grabbing hold of Loki's sticklike arms and shoving them down at his sides with more force than is necessary._

"_God DAMN IT, Loki!" He snaps, voice rising loudly. "Would you hold still!?"_

_He regrets it immediately as he watches Loki flinch back, his wails only growing worse, his body trembling more viciously._

_Odin has no idea what's wrong, what's causing Loki to react this way. _

_He's given his son countless baths in the past, several years, and he's never had this reaction before._

_If Frigga were here, he would ask her to come in and take over. But she's out of town on a business trip, and Thor's off visiting friends. Odin already knows Baldr wouldn't be any help. He's often as lost when it comes to Loki as Odin himself is._

_Growling in frustration, he sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he looks away from his son, shaking his head._

_A few moments later, regaining his composure, he turns back to Loki, reaching up and wiping at the boy's cheeks with his rough thumbs._

"_I'm sorry." Odin tells him, trying to keep his voice soft. "I didn't mean that."_

_Loki isn't looking at him now, his bright, green eyes cast down, wet and red with tears._

_Odin's heart aches horribly at the sight of him._

_Loki looks so small._

_The boy had always been undersized, but he still remembers what Thor looked like at fourteen, nearly big as Odin himself, broad shouldered and heavily muscular. And even Baldr, at twelve, though much shorter than Loki, outweighs his adopted son by a good twenty pounds. _

_Loki is a waif, rail thin and slender. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over, and it only makes Odin wish he could protect his young son all the more._

"_Loki," he tries. "what's wrong honey? Do you not want to take a bath?"_

_For several, long seconds, Loki says nothing, until finally he shakes his head, still keeping his eyes down._

"_No, you don't want to take a bath, or not that isn't what's wrong?" Odin presses._

_Loki wipes clumsily at his eyes with the back of his hand, again shaking his head._

"_I want to take a bath." He finally answers, voice brittle and small._

_Odin frowns, reaching out and rubbing his hands up and down Loki's bony shoulders._

"_Then what is it?" He asks again._

_Loki sniffles, once more wiping at his eyes. He's so young, and yet he's suffering so much._

_Some days Odin can hardly stand to look at him._

"_I d-don't… don't want you to see." The boy mumbles out after a moment._

_Odin's brow creases in confusion, slight unease uncurling in his stomach._

"… _Don't want me to see?" He asks. "You mean you don't want me to see you naked? Loki, you know you don't have to be shy. I've seen you lots of times. You remember, yes?"_

_Loki hesitates a long, few seconds, before vaguely he nods, still looking away._

_Again, Odin rubs up and down the boy's shoulders, hoping the motion is reassuring._

"_Then what is it?" He asks once more._

_Another, long pause, and then finally his son speaks, almost too softly to hear._

"… _The bruises." He says._

_Immediately Odin feels his stomach churn sickeningly, a wave of fear and horror washing through him._

"_Bruises?!" He asks, alarmed. "What bruises?"_

_Loki doesn't answer, only his eyes well up with tears, his frame beginning once again to tremble._

"_Loki, _what bruises_!?" Odin demands, his hands gripping more tightly over the boy's shoulders._

"_Th-the b-bruises on my-my back."_

_Without hesitation, Odin spins Loki round, lifting up his shirt._

_He feels his breath catch, his throat closing up._

_Across the pale and bony expanse of his son's lower back are grotesquely deep bruises, blue and purple and black, no more than a day old._

_It looks like someone's taken a baseball bat and struck with full force against his boy, and Odin feels suddenly, overwhelmingly nauseated, his mind screaming with confusion and terror._

_For a moment, he can do nothing but stammer, words failing him miserably as he tries to pull his wildly running thoughts back into order._

_Loki is crying in earnest now, shaking uncontrollably as his arms fold over himself, as if trying to hide._

"_Loki, wh-who… who did this to you?" Finally Odin manages, turning his son back towards him. "Tell me who did this."_

_His son still won't look at him, his thin chest heaving with gasping breathes as he continues to cry._

_Odin feels sick with fear._

"_Loki…" he demands again. "tell me."_

"… _I d-don't want to get in t-trouble." Loki moans miserably, hiccupping with his sobs._

"_Loki, honey, listen to me." Odin says, lowering his head, trying to catch the boy's eye. "You aren't going to get in trouble. You did nothing wrong."_

_He feels his own heart sinking as the implication of Loki's words really register. His son, he realizes, is afraid to talk to him. Doesn't trust him not to get angry. As if Loki at this point could logically be held responsible for any of his actions._

_Odin wonders then in dismay what it is he's done to make Loki feel so afraid of him. When the boy usually talks so freely to Frigga and his two brothers._

"_Loki, please," he entreats one time more. "I need to know what happened."_

_It takes nearly a minute longer, but finally his son starts to talk, voice brittle and wobbling as he works through his tears._

_Odin feels himself in a state of horrified shock as Loki at last reveals to him that it wasn't _anyone_ who gave him the bruises. At least, not anyone _real_. It takes Odin longer than it should for him to figure that out, as his son details for him the description of a man, one who appears often to Loki, telling him to do bad things to himself, threatening, Loki says, to hurt his family if he doesn't obey._

_Loki tells him the man instructed him this time to take up one of Thor's cricket bats and hit himself with it across the back, and Loki had done just that, repeatedly. _

_It's may be the first time then that Odin is certain, truly _certain_, that he and his wife can no longer care for Loki themselves. That, in all likelihood, the boy is going to have to be institutionalized. _

_The realization is near suffocating to him, and he can barely hold himself together, even as he desperately tries to reassure his son that it's alright. That everything is going to be alright._

_It's all he can do to keep from breaking down into his own sobs when, still trembling and crying, Loki throws himself forward, clinging to his father with a wretched desperation, blubbering brokenly._

"_You aren't going to s-send me away Papa!?" He cries raggedly. "You aren't going to send me away?!"_

"No," Odin had told him.

No, he'd said, and lied.

He and Frigga had held out for as long as they could. Nearly three years more before they at last succumbed to the overwhelming demands Loki's illness had placed on their entire family. When it had started to become clear that Loki's presence was growing detrimental to their ability to focus on Baldr, and worse still, detrimental to Baldr's safety…

After the fire at Asgard, they'd known it was the beginning of the end. Known they couldn't continue lying to themselves, or to their son.

It had taken a while for them to find the right place, and the right doctors. They'd moved from England to the US, to New York, for the sole reason it was here where the best facilities for the mentally ill could be found.

Only the guilt had continued to weigh so heavily on Odin that he'd found himself unable to even visit Loki until now, after Frigga and Thor and even Baldr had harassed him into doing it. Frigga told him Loki believed he didn't love him, and hearing that, Odin hadn't been able to keep away any longer.

Still, the memory of Loki sobbing violently, clinging to him pitifully, then to Frigga, then to Thor, begging them not to put him in this place, impresses itself relentlessly on Odin's mind.

He thinks he may be sick with regret as he looks at his boy now, sitting across from him on the floor, cross legged, working it seems mindlessly on a jigsaw puzzle.

Loki has barely spoken a word in the near hour Odin has been here, but when he has, Odin could hardly fail to notice the slight slur to his son's words, nor the distant, almost glazed look to his eyes.

Loki's been drugged with some sort of medication. It's only too obvious. His reactions are slow, his awareness, though more and more in recent years fractured and inconsistent, now seems skewed in a different way. Like he's walking through a fog, his thoughts slowed and numbed. There's none of the razor sharp intelligence that's always been clear, even in his son's fits of delusion.

Odin's teeth clench, his hands tightening over his knees. He parallels Loki's posture and stance, also sitting cross legged on the floor of his room. He'd hoped by adopting the same position, he would keep Loki from feeling intimidated.

But Loki's so out of it, he doubts it even registers to his boy.

"Loki," he starts quietly.

Loki doesn't look up.

"Loki, son, look at me." Odin says again, reaching out this time and touching his son's birdlike wrist softly.

Slowly, Loki's head comes up, his unfocused eyes gazing back at Odin with barely any recognition.

Odin feels his stomach churn.

"They've put you on some new medication." He states, not even a question. Loki just blinks at him confusedly. "Loki, what have they got you taking?"

Another long, few seconds pass, Loki blinking at him. The corners of his mouth are crusted with dried saliva, his face gaunt and pale. He looks sick, and Odin can barely stand it. He begins then to wonder if this is where Loki belongs at all. If maybe he and Frigga shouldn't make a go of bringing Loki back home to live with them. Of course, Baldr has just started high school, and that would make things decidedly more difficult, but…

"The bad people went away." Loki's slurred and soft voice disrupts his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Odin questions, momentarily confused. "What did you say?"

"The bad people." Loki repeats, blinking slowly again, his tongue coming out to lick at his dried, chapped lips. "Dd-Dr. Banner said it would make them g-go away and leave me alone, and they did. The bad people don't talk to me anymore."

Odin's eyes sting painfully, and he has to swallow thickly before finding himself able to say anything in return.

"That's good son. Th-that's very good."

Loki smiles sluggishly at him, eyes staring almost blankly.

Odin is going to have to have a talk with Dr. Banner. Ask him what the hell he's got his son taking.

"I… I'm better now Papa." Loki says suddenly. "I'm better and c-can come home now. Can't I? Can't I come home now to Asgard?"

Odin's heart sinks like a stone into the pit of his stomach, and in an instant, his eyes fill with the threatening tears. He turns his face away, wiping viciously at them.

He can't keep lying to his boy. But he doesn't know how to tell him the truth either.

And so instead he settles for a little of both.

"We've moved to the United States Loki." He says, forcing himself to turn back to his son and look him in the face. "Asgard was back in England. But… but you'll get to come live with us in our new home soon. Okay?"

Loki's brow creases in dismayed confusion, like he doesn't understand Odin's words at all.

"Asgard?" He asks. "Isn't home Asgard?"

Odin shakes his head, his chest feeling tight.

"Not anymore son. We live in Brooklyn now. In New York. That's where you'll come live with us. Soon. Alright?"

"…P-promise?" Loki asks then, and he sounds so scared, Odin wants nothing more than to take him into his arms and never let him go.

Instead he nods his head, praying that he hasn't just told his boy another, awful lie.

"I promise son. You'll be home with us."

"I want to go home." Loki says.

"You will Loki." Odin answers again. "I promise you will."


End file.
